She didn't visibly hold her hand out.

  But we all knew we were expected to do the right thing. 

  Afterwards, the strong personalities mumbled their affirmatives and it seemed as though the Holy Spirit nodded their heads more than they were willing to personally when questioned about "the right thing". 

  A lot of things were true.  Such was the power of propaganda.  "It did a hell of a job on my head," the man said of the shovel.  We'd hidden it like the people of the Book had done with certain artifacts.  

  "Think of it like," other writers and editors tried to fathom what this was like.  "Like we're Counties and she's 

  "A prim-madonna 

  "Like...there are a lot of stages in Hollywood and now..." 

  "We take movie to big stage!" The man's pointer finger shot up in the air and some people got on their feet.  Others had agreed we should turn the script from wild west to Biblical and were wearing "sackcloth" and throwing dust on their heads. 

  "I have spoken to some others," the potential director of directors plied herself as the person for the job.  "There are others?" A woman in a fancy Town dress worn threadbare and beaten for the dusts put her hands together like a prayful school child.  "A whole world-full." 

  "What are they like?" A man in ripped pants asked. 

  "How long have you all been out here?" 

  "Where is here?" 

  "He has a map."  A fairly non-descript, can play any role, person blurted.  Without looking the person accused asked, "How would you know?" 

  "Let's just pool our assets," an editor opened a very small sachel and removed a red pencil and an eraser.  A writer plucked a pen from a shirt pocket.  The director-potentate took a folded up pillow case from a pocket.  Accepted the articles offered as a sign of willingness to give it a try.  Remaining bits of stiff bread, broken jewelry, a feather, people cut off pieces of coat and undershirts, but the pillowcase made its way around the knot of people without being filled up.  

  "Are you gonna make us give you our shoes?" 

  The people without shoes laughed and snickered.  "That would be cruel," the woman said.  "So no." 

  "You mean you're not cruel?" A man asked.  The woman said she didn't say that she couldn't be.  "Vhat is dees kroold?" 

  "Let's figure out where we are so we can not walk smack into any of the battlelines." A man took off a long dusty canvas coat to reveal an Army uniform.